A Broken Heart Beats Too
by AlxM
Summary: 1.22. AU. Sam shot his father when the YED possessed him. Now he's desperate to make it up to a broken and angry Dean, and his hurtful words and actions grows his desperation even more.
1. Chapter 1

A/N.

Don't ask about the name. Don't ask about the unusual summary. I just needed a depressing name for a major depressing story I'm planning for this to be. :) I really don't know how I got this idea.:P but I hope you enjoy this! :)

And this could be the most AUish story I've ever written. BTW, The beginning of this story. It's not because that confession of Sam at the end of 2.02. This was set after 1.22.

And don't take Dean's anger seriously. This is only for my story purposes and I mean come on! Watching your dad get shot by your brother? (Even Reluctantly) kinda does mess with your emotions.

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Set: 1.22, Devil's Trap

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Summary: AU. Sam shot his father when the YED possessed him. Now he's desperate to make it up to a broken and angry Dean. And his hurtful words and actions grows his desperation even more.

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Chapter 1

Sam woke up one morning to the loud sounds of smashing. He jolted up and froze for a small second, wondering where the sound was coming from. He ran out of his room and down the stairs. He ran out to Bobby's salvage yard and found Dean, taking all his anger out on his most precious possession with an iron crowbar. The Impala.

He couldn't blame him though. It was too much to take in. Watching your own brother shoot their dad was a lot to watch. He blinked back tears as he remembered how he shot his own father with the Colt. Everything changed after that night about a few days ago. Dean would move away from his touch. He never looked at him the same, like the way he used to. He'd only look at him with anger and disgust, maybe even hatred. Like he was some sort of freak. He tried to make him open up once, but it all ended up with him yelling at him to stop pushing him and leave him alone.

It hurts a lot. It aches his heart to see how Dean looks at him. But he deserved it. He didn't know what to do, dad was yelling at him to shoot him. He panicked, he knew that if he let the yellow eyed demon go, it would've killed them all. It would've killed Dean.

_God dad. I'm so sorry. __I didn't know what to do, If I would've had any other choice, I would've taken it.. But I didn't._

Sam blinked back his tears. He stared absent-mindedly at the now damaged Impala.

_"You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" John yelled through his gritted teeth at his son as he held back the demon possessing him. Sam loaded the gun as he pointed it to his chest. "Do it now!"_

_"Sam, don't you do it.. don't you do it!" Dean said in a pained voice._

_"Please, hurry! I can't hold him any longer!" John tried to convince his indecisive son._

_Sam swallowed as he stole one glance at his brother. If he lets the demon go, It would kill his brother. He can't watch that happen in front of his own eyes. He looked back at his father who struggled to keep control of his body. His eyes teared up, his throat and chest going tight. "I'm sorry." He whispered brokenly and reluctantly pulled the trigger, flinching as it shot through the air and into his dad's heart. He put down his hand and stared at the bullet hole and the blood flowing out of his father's slowly going still chest._

_Sam bit his lip and finally let the tears flow down his tan cheek. But he quickly wiped them away and looked over at Dean. Who stared wide-eyed in shock as he saw his own brother shoot his dad. Suddenly, he felt a volcano of rage bubbling inside of him along with a wave of sadness washing down on him. But his rage overshadowed his sadness as he pushed his brother away angrily when he tried to help him up._

_"Don't touch me!" Dean yelled angrily at his guilty brother. He got up by the support of the wall, gritting his teeth as he did so. But failed as the injury stinged at the movement._

_ "Dean.." He whispered. He moved his trembling hand to grab hold of his injured brother's elbow but he yanked it away from him. "Stay the hell away from me!"_

_Sam swallowed down the growing lump inside his throat as he stared sadly and guiltily at his brother. "I.. I'll call Bobby." He said in a low cracking voice and received no reply in return. _

Sam bit his lip guiltily. He knew how much dad meant to Dean, he was his idol, his role model. His hero.

And he took him away from him. He killed his father. His own dad. There wasn't a second that he didn't think about him and kept wondering. Could there have been any another choice?

Dean stopped hitting the Impala and breathed heavily.

Bobby ran out in the salvage yard. He stared questioningly at the ruined Impala. "What the hell?" He asked in a low voice in astonishment.

* * *

Sam sat on one of the kitchen chairs while Bobby cooked some food. They heard footsteps and found Dean walking to the table, grabbing one of the chairs and sitting down. He didn't look at his brother, just turned his eyes on Bobby.

"So, how's that car of yours goin'?" Bobby asked with a small smile.

Dean shrugged slightly. "Fine." He replied simply.

"Well, that's good then." Bobby said as he set three plates one the table filled with food. And sat down on the table.

Dean sighed heavily. "I.. Uh.. I think I'm just gonna go eat in my room." He took his plate and walked off upstairs to his room to eat alone.

Sam watched as Dean went upstairs. It was obvious he didn't wanna be in the same room as Sam. Did he really go that far? That Dean wouldn't even want him around anymore?

He tried to keep his tears at bay at the thought. Dean didn't want him around anymore. He couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him.

He felt a sudden desperation to make things right. He needed to make it up to him. But he wasn't sure if he could ever repay for what he did. He killed his dad. And now Dean hates him.

He stared down at the empty space on the floor. He was so lost in thoughts that when Bobby rested a hand on his shoulder. He startled and flinched.

"He didn't leave because of you, alright?" Bobby tried to reassure the young man. He said it like he actually red his mind. He squeezed his shoulder and smiled comfortingly. "Now eat." He forced.

Sam stared at the food. The thought of it only made him nauseous. He doesn't think he could handle a meal.

Dean walked downstairs and walked inside the kitchen. He put his plate in the sink and turned to Bobby. Who was trying to convince Sam to eat. "What a waste of food." He muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes. "I'm going off to work on my car. If you need me, I'll be at the salvage yard." He walked off

The fact was, he was only talking to Bobby. Dean really didn't want him around.

He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. But he couldn't disappoint Bobby. Especially, since he's the only person left in this world who cares about him.

So he took the spoon and slowly started eating.

"Good." Bobby smiled and sighed as he got up. He heard footsteps behind him and just in time. He saw Sam walk out of the kitchen.

He followed him up worriedly and his concern grew even more for the kid as he watched Sam get on his knees in front of the toilet and starting throwing up all that he's eaten.

The kid was really guilty and completely stressed out.

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Hey guys! Review please! :D love you all. Thank you for all your support.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

Hey guys! I'm hoping that I've replied to everyone. But just incase, I wanna thank you all for your support. Love you all.

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Chapter 2

Sam sighed. He knew that Dean wouldn't want him around, especially not right now. He also knew that Dean wouldn't wanna talk as that's not his way of dealing with grief and problems. But he had to talk to him. He wanted his brother to understand that he did it to save him. He didn't have a choice. If he had a choice that didn't include shooting his dad or letting his brother die. He would've gladly taken it, but he didn't.

He walked out in Bobby's salvage yard. He took a deep breath as he saw Dean working on his car. He masked his nervousness and started walking further.

"Dean." He said flatly. Trying to hide how nervous he was.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed of annoyance before he turned around to face Sam. "What?" He didn't even try to hide his anger at his brother. He didn't care about hiding it. Because what his brother did wasn't something he could just push down and bury it somewhere deep, and say that it's fine. Because it's not.

"I think we need to talk." He replied. Keeping his mask firm.

"About what?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"About everything. About the way you've been acting, about dad and about that night!" He practically yelled but tried his best to keep his voice at a normal level.

The reminder of that night sent him into a fit of rage. He was trying to keep his mind busy by working on his car, just to forget that night and here his brother was, wanting to talk about it like it would solve everything. "You mean that night when you killed dad out of cold-blooded hate?" He snapped angrily. "You hated him so much for the way he raised us that you didn't even think about what it would to me! You just took whatever chance you had just to kill him!"

He tried not to flinch at his words. He knew this was coming, but he didn't expect it to hurt this much. How could his brother think that he only shot him because he hated him? Yeah, he did fight him practically his whole life but, he never hated him like that. Not to the point of wanting to kill him. But he still kept his mask firm. "And what was I supposed to do? He was yelling at me to shoot him! It could've killed you!"

"Then you should've let it kill me!" He yelled angrily. "At least then I wouldn't have had to watch my own brother kill my **dad!**"

Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat. But tried to hide his hurt and guilt. And kept his game face in place. "So what? You're just gonna sit there and do nothing and work on your stupid car? Is that it?"

"Yeah, that's just what I'll do. Work on my stupid car. So you can get the hell out of here and leave me alone!" Dean's voice was at a low level but it still sounded rageful. He turned away from him to continue working on his car.

"Or else what?" Sam yelled at his brother. When he didn't get any reply, he walked over and grabbed his elbow to turn him around. Because this conversation is not going to end so soon.

And Dean's hard fist connected at his jaw which caused him to stumble back a few steps. Damn, of course he expected a good hard blow to his face but not really this hard. His hand automatically shot up to his jaw and winced a little when his fingers brushed the place. That was definitely gonna leave a bruise.

"Stay the hell away from me!" Dean yelled angrily at his brother again. "I told you to freakin' leave me alone!"

"And you think I was going to obey you?" Sam chuckled bitterly.

"Oh yeah. You're the great Sam Winchester. Who had a mind of his own, right? Who doesn't follow orders. Except that one time when dad told you to kill him!" Dean mocked angrily. "It should've been you possessed, not him!" He felt a volcano of rage bubbling inside of him. He couldn't control his mouth any longer. He just wanted to be left alone but his brother asked for this.

Sam's mouth gaped in shock and hurt, his mask was slowly falling off. He knew that was as good as wishing he was the one dead instead of his dad. He knew he deserved it because he did push him too far this time.

Dean turned away from his brother. He ran a hand through his hair before turning back to Sam. "Just leave me alone, okay! Get the hell out of here!" He stared ragefully at his brother, who stared at him with an expression of shock and hurt. When he didn't move, he pushed angrily at his chest. "I SAID GO!"

The push was hard enough for Sam to fall to the ground. His eyes didn't leave Dean. His eyes were welling up as he stared at Dean with doey eyes. "Is that how you deal? By lashing out at the things that you love?" His voice was heavy with emotion.

"Love? You?" He chuckled bitterly, looking away. He looked back at Sam after a while. Fixing him with a cold hard angry stare. "I don't think I could love someone who destroyed my whole family."

Sam's mask fully wore off as he stared at Dean with an expression of hurt and shock. His eyes welled up even more with tears as he heard his brother's bitter words. He wishes he was the one dead instead of dad. He blames him for not only dad's death. But mom's too. He doesn't love him anymore.

He bit his lip. "Y-you don't mean that." He whispered shakily. He was talking to Dean but he was trying to convince himself that.

"I don't?"

Sam let his tears flow down freely as he slowly and shakily got up on his feet. He looked at Dean once before walking back inside Bobby's house.

He couldn't bring himself to look back at the angry look on his face.

He angrily wiped the tears away. He's going to make everything right. No matter what it's going to take. He'll make it up to Dean. Hopefully Dean would never look at him like that again after that.

If he ever will.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N.

Aww! Thank you all so much for your support! I love you all! I haven't been replying to everyone these days. But I hope I do this time.

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Chapter 3

Sam walked inside the house. All he could think about was Dean's hurtful words and actions. He hit him, he didn't even regret it. But that wasn't what got him the most. It was his words. He blamed him for Mom and Dad's death, he said he should've been dead instead of Dad. He said he didn't love him, why would he? He shot dad and killed him. He killed Mom, just by simply existing. He probably even thinks Jess died because of him. Why would it be different if he blames him for Mom's death? If he wasn't born, Mom and Jess never would've died. If Mom never died, Dad would've never been obsessed with killing the Yellow eyed demon. And he never had got into hunting. Dean would've had a normal childhood and life.

Dean deserved better than spending his whole life taking care of a freak for a brother. He deserved so much better, he deserved a normal little brother, not a freak. He deserved real birthday parties with huge cakes and hundreds of people attending it. He deserved real true friends who would always be there for him. He deserved a house with a beautiful loving wife and annoying children running around him.

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve a freak brother with visions and teleknesis powers.

Bobby stared at him in concern. The kid looked so broken, with his eyes all huge and teary and staring down at the floor as he walked. "You alright, kid?" He said as he stood in front of him and rested a hand on his shoulder. Sam startled and looked up. He didn't even notice him here.

Bobby furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the forming bruise on his jaw.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine.. I'm.. I'm just t-tired." He said as he tried not to freakin' cry in front of his father figure. "I'm j-just gonna go take a nap." He winced as his voice cracked.

He started to walk off until Bobby grabbed his arm in a firm grip. "What the hell happened, Sam?" He asked, which sounded more like a demand.

"N-nothing." Sam lied. He didn't wanna cause anymore trouble than he already did.

"Who the hell did that?" He asked as he stared at the forming bruise. He raised his eyebrows expectantly for an answer when Sam didn't say anything, just stared down at the floor. His jaw clenched as he understood. "Dean.." He growled angrily. He stormed off before Sam even had a chance to stop him.

And a few minutes later, he could still hear yelling. "It's his fault that dad died! His fault mom died!" He heard Dean yell.

"He didn't have a choice! What would you have done if you were in his situation! And he was a baby! He didn't even know how to friggin' talk!" Bobby yelled.

"He should've never been born, then!" Dean yelled.

Sam flinched. His heart clenched as if someone just reached into his chest and squeezed it. His eyes welled up as he ran upstairs to his room. He just couldn't listen any more of that.

* * *

Bobby walked out into his salvage yard and saw Dean. He walked angrily towards him, his fist clenching and unclenching as if he just wants to throttle him. "You stupid ass!" He yelled as he reached Dean. "What the hell did you do that for?" He said in a low but dangerous voice.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He asked confusedly as he rubbed the grease off his hands with a cloth.

"What the hell did you hit your brother for?" He asked angrily.

Dean's expression changed into fury as he answered at a low rageful voice. "He asked for it."

"How could ya hit him? He's your brother! You swore ta' protect him!" Bobby yelled.

"Stop dumping the burden on me! Okay?" Dean yelled angrily.

"Oh, so now he's a burden to you?" He asked.

"He's not my responsibility, I'm not his freakin' keeper."

"Didn't your daddy say so?" Bobby said angrily.

"Don't bring him into this!" Dean yelled again.

"I'm asking you one more time. Why the hell did you hit Sam for?" He asked in a low rageful voice.

"It's his fault, okay! Everything is his fault! It's his fault that dad died! His fault mom died!" Dean yelled furiously. He felt all kinds of mad. Fury, rage, anger. He didn't even understand who he was angry at. His dad for pushing his brother into shooting him, or his brother for killing him.

"He didn't have a choice! What would you have done if you were in his situation! And he was a baby! He didn't even know how to friggin' talk!" Bobby argued angrily, wanting nothing more than to beat some sense into the kid.

"He should've never been born, then!" Dean yelled angrily.

Bobby gaped in shock. He never thought Dean would say something like that. Never in his life.

Dean regretted what he said. But his anger overshadowed his regret. He didn't feel like caring about anything right now. He just felt numb, which was a lot more better than pain. "Just leave me alone, okay?" He said and went back to working on his car.

* * *

It was almost 1 AM in the morning. Sam couldn't sleep. Dean's words kept echoing around his mind. He remembers Bobby trying to convince him that it was just his anger talking. He knew he was trying to make him feel better, but how can he? He knew better. That was how Dean always felt about him, what else could he be hiding?

He tried to keep his sobs at bay. Dean never wanted him. He even wished he wasn't born, he blames him for everything, he's a burden, that's all. It should've been him instead of dad. Maybe then, Dean would've been happy.

He remembers reading a book about certain types of demons.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N.

Hi guys! Thank you all so much for your support. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. :) love you all! :)

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Chapter 4

It was 5 AM in the morning. Sam was sitting in the library, reading a book. He wanted - no, needed to make things right. He knew it was pathetic, the way he was so desperate for Dean's approval. He knew that what he is doing is too risky. But it'll be worth it, as long as Dean would be proud of him.

Bobby walked inside the library, fully dressed but could barely keep his eyes open. He looked at Sam and joined his eyebrows together. Sam wasn't usually up this early. He's usually up at 7 AM. He took a good look at his face as he noticed the dark circles around his eyes. The kid had barely slept since their daddy's death. But he'd still not be awake at this time in the morning. And it seemed like he didn't even sleep last night at all. His shoulders were slumped and his bloodshot eyes along with the dark circles that seem to have darkened even more.

"Kid?" Bobby called out. He startled as he closed his book quickly and hid it behind him. He looked up.

"What you doing up so early? It's only five in the morning." Bobby asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He saw the panicky move but decided to let it go.

"I just.. I had some really important work to do." He made an excuse. A pretty bad one at that.

Bobby sighed deeply. "Did you get any sleep at all?" He asked solemnly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Sam faltered for a moment before he nodded and said. "Yeah. I had a little bit of sleep." He lied, he knew that Bobby was aware of his insomnia, but he just had to try.

"Define 'a little'." He asked earnestly and cocked an eyebrow expectantly for an answer. He waited a while before having enough of this silence. He walked over to Sam. "You need to get some rest, Sam." He said softly as he held his arm firmly but with gentle hands.

Sam sighed. "I don't need rest, Bobby. I'm completely fine." He couldn't believe how close it sounded to whiny when he said that. Bobby grabbed his arm and tugged him up.

Bobby didn't listen to any of his crap as he tried to protest by telling him that 'I'm fine' or 'I don't need any rest'. Bobby didn't listen to it, ignored all his protests. But there was always one tone and two words that he could never ignore.

"Bobby, please." He whispered pleadingly.

And those two words were all it took, to slowly loosen his grip on his arm. He didn't know what it was that seemed so important to the kid. Reading some kind of book? "You can read that book after you get some sleep, boy." He said and noticed the wince. Like he didn't know that Bobby saw the book. Even though, he doesn't really know which book it is.

Sam stared at him for a long time, trying to decide whether he should listen to Bobby's advice or not. He didn't really think Bobby saw his startling action. He was surprised he didn't call him on it. He sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Bobby. I have a lot of work to do." He said, he saw Bobby's expression change to disappointment, mostly on himself. So he added. "But I promise, I'll get some rest when I'm done." He gave him a small reassuring smile.

Bobby's expression changed to relief at his words and his promise.

But he still couldn't help but wonder what it is that seems so important to him.

* * *

Dean worked on his car. He was distracted from his thoughts. All his words echoed continuously through his mind. To Sam, to Bobby about Sam. He knew he shouldn't have said those things. But his anger kept him from guilt and regret. Sam kind of asked for it. He was pushing him. He should've learned by now that he doesn't deal with things the way he does. He doesn't know why he just snaps at him like that everytime he sees him. Maybe, it's because when he sees him, the only thing he could think of was that night when he pointed the Colt at Dad, and shot him. It was all he could see.

But deep down. He knew that nothing was Sam's fault. But his anger at everything never made him think that.

Sam walked in hesitantly, looking down at his shoes. He looked up and sucked in a long deep breath as he walked towards Dean. He hoped Dean wouldn't snap at him like that again. He just wanted to give his last words. He wanted to tell him so many things. He wanted to apologize for so many things. For ruining his life like that. For killing Mom and Dad, for taking away his childhood. But he knew sorry wouldn't do anything.

"Hey Dean." He said lightly and smiled weakly. Dean didn't turn around, he didn't look at him. He just ignored him. His smile slowly faded. "Um.. I just.." He sighed inwardly. "I wanted to say that - I'm sorry, you know. You were right. About me - about everything, infact." He huffed out a joyless laughter. "I'm really sorry. About so many things. You don't know how sorry I am. Even I might not know.. I know it's not enough. But I'll make it up to you. I promise." He said the last words quietly.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. His protective big brother side on alert. Why the hell does it sound so much like a freakin' goodbye speech?

But his other side decided to ignore it.

* * *

Ok, so a lot of people have figured out what I'm going to do. *Rubs hands evily* but there are still some people who don't! :D Which means I don't have to reveal it just yet.

Well, at least I think there are. D:

Oh! And I'm planning on a rewrite for 'Mentally Broken'. I dunno, I just love the plot. It's just so original and fun to write. :D What do you think? Yes, I know, someday it'll get boring with me going all 'I'm planning a rewrite for this story and that'.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N.

OMGOMGOMG! You guys are just.. Awesome! I love you all soo much! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Your reviews make me crazily happpyy! And I'm sorry for not updating. Freakin' school! I can't wait to get out of that stupid place.

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Sam hung his duffel bag over his shoulder as he stood in front of the door, contemplating whether this is the right thing to do or not; God, he should be on his knees right now, clinging to his brother's leg and begging for his forgiveness, but what would that do? So he just settled with his only option. This is right thing to do, Dean wanted dad, he_ needed_ dad. He didn't want anything to do with him anymore. If he stuck around, he's only a reminder to Dean of what they've lost.. All they've lost because of _him._ Jess, mom, dad. And soon, he's gonna get Dean and Bobby killed too. Who knows how many more bad guys are out there to get them. This is the right thing.

It was stupid, maybe a little selfish. But he always thought and wanted to be above everything and everyone in Dean's life; Even dad. But how could he have expect such a thing? Dean has been blaming him all his life. He just never showed it. Hell, he's been blaming himself all these years, before they even found out the truth behind it. But she died protecting him. And at times he wished she left him there to die. Was that why dad always despised him? Why he was always second best?

Revenge was the reason they ever got into hunting. Now the Yellow-eyed demon's dead. Maybe now, Dean and dad would finally live normally, be happy. Now dad could be a normal dad to Dean instead of his drill seargeant. Dean could be happy now. Maybe he'll get married to a beautiful woman and have kids, and dad could be a granddad.

He could be an uncle, but he won't even be here to share the happiness. Instead, he'd be in hell, burning and getting tortured. But maybe thinking about Dean and how he would be happy right then would get him through. He doubts the demon would give him 10 years to live. He could be an uncle but he's pretty sure Dean doesn't consider him as his brother anymore.

He blinked back tears. No time for self-pity, he'll do this for Dean. Maybe when he's gone and when he'd have dad back, he'll forgive him. He reached for the doorknob and was about to turn until Bobby's voice called out to him.

"Kid?" He stared at Sam. "You goin' somewhere?" He said as he looked at the bag on his shoulder.

Sam was frozen, slightly shocked. He wasn't planning on being caught. He tried to think of an excuse or a lie as he stumbled on words. "Uh... I... I just thought that..." He sighed deeply as he turned to Bobby. "I think we and Dean need some time away from each other, ya know? He probably doesn't want me around him right now, after... after everything."

"Don't be stupid, Sam. He does want you around, he's just angry. You know how he is when he's angry, that's his way of dealing." Bobby explained.

"It'll only be a few days." He lied, he hated lying to Bobby, especially when he knows he's never coming back. But this is all he can do right now. He sighed heavily and walked over to Bobby, giving him one last hug.

Bobby was stunned. He didn't know how to react, he has never really been the one to get all touchy-feely, but he knew he couldn't shove him away. Especially when he needs it right now, since Dean has been reacting angrily to his brother's touch.

Sam wished he could just hug Dean one last time too, but he knows the consequences. Dean would only shove him away, scream angrily at him and probably sock him in the face for the simple contact.

He slowly broke the contact and smiled sadly at him. "Thanks Bobby, for everything." He said softly. He stepped back and turned as he walked to the door, turned the doorknob. He walked out, looked back once at the only real home they've ever had, next to the Impala.

* * *

Dean walked inside the house. His baby was finally repaired, good as new. And he wanted to go for a first drive tomorrow first thing. He hoped he wouldn't run into Sam right now, he wasn't in the mood. Not after everything he's said to him and about him. He knew he had heard what he said to Bobby about him, that's why when he walked into the room to find Sam curled on his side on his bed, crying and sobbing silently. But he just couldn't bring himself to care, and he knew that might have hurt Sam, made him think he didn't give a damn about him anymore, but he did. He just didn't feel like caring at that moment, he didn't even know what to do anymore. There used to be a time when he'd know what to do to calm him down, where he'd run to his brother and pry off answers from him. Things do change.

He walked inside where Bobby was. He sighed heavily, bringing Bobby's attention towards him. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said about Sam. I shouldn't have said those things." Dean apologised half-heartedly.

Bobby stared at him wearily for a while before he finally replied. "It ain't me you should be apologising to. You should've been apologising to the kid."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "_Should've?_" He emphasized.

Bobby shrugged. "He left for a few days, but I think I know better."

He silenced and only stared for a while before he sighed as he got up. "He left, because _you_ kept pushing him away... because _you_.." He pointed at Dean's chest. "Didn't want him around." He said, a little accusingly.

Anger flashed by his face. "You're saying that it's my fault? It's all he ever did; leave!" He lashed out angrily. "He's always wanting to talk! He should've learned by now that I don't deal with things the way he does!"

Bobby sighed wearily, not wanting to argue right now. "Look, all I'm saying.." Silence. "You think he did that out of hate? You think he wanted to shoot your daddy?" He asked. "He did it because he had no choice, Dean... he did it to save _you._"

"Nice job at that." He grumbled angrily as he crossed his arms and looked away, breaking eye contact with his surrogate father.

"He's beating himself up everyday, you just keep making it worse when he expected you to make it better."

"Look, I get it, okay? He needs someone, but he's a grown up now. He can't keep running to me, crying to make everything better. That isn't something I can forgive him for."

"You don't think he's guilty?" He raised his voice. "He barely slept these few weeks, can't even keep some damn food down his throat!"

Dean ran out of all retorts, so he just stayed silent.

"Look, I get it, alright? You have your own problems to deal with and you can do it yourself. Ya don't want to share burdens, you're independant. You need anger to deal with all your burdens... but that kid ain't like you.. he doesn't need anger, he needs _someone,_ Dean. And not just someone. But needs _you..._ Kid's breakin' Dean; and someday when he's had enough... it's gonna be the end of him."

Dean's anger had melted with every word, replaced by shame and guilt. His angry words are probably gonna haunt him forever.

Bobby just stared at him for a while. He knew it was wrong blaming him for everything, and the look on his face right made him feel worse since Dean also had been burdened by their father's death, and especially when it was your own brother to pull the trigger. But the way he's been shutting him out, pushing him away and hurting him. It broke his heart when he watched the youngest Winchester look so broken.

Bobby sighed. "Dinner's ready in the kitchen." He just said and walked away.

Dean slowly sat on the couch, using the arm of it for support. _Oh God._ He thought. Sammy needed him, when did it stop mattering? He always looked out for him, was always there. Hell, he even broke one of his most important rules so many times for the kid, just to comfort him.

_"It should've been you possessed, not him!"_

_ He pushed angrily at his chest. "I SAID GO!"_

_"Is that how you deal? By lashing out at the things that you love?"_

_"Love? You?"_

_"I don't think I could love someone who destroyed my whole family."_

_It's his fault, okay! Everything is his fault! It's his fault that dad died! His fault mom died!"_

_"He should've never been born, then!"_

He's seen the look on his face, and he never cared. He kept pushing him away, made him cry silently.

And he _never_ cared... but now he does. And he'll make everything better.

He ran a hand down his face, his eyes absent-mindedly drifted to the table in front of him, and he was just about to look away until something caught his eye.

'Crossroads demon deal'

* * *

HAHA! OMG! I'm evil. And wow! this got longer than I thought. :P I hope that makes up for all the days I haven't updated. OMG! SORRY!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N.

Hey! Here's the next chapter. :) I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this! :) Thank you for all your support.

* * *

Dean reached for the book and squinted at the title name. He knew about these kinds of demons. He's red about them once but barely remembers a thing about it. All he knows are the simple things. They bargain with human beings granting any wish in exchange for their soul. If they die before their deal or when their deal comes to due, they are sent to hell. They are usually given 10 years to live before it.

Bobby must've been reading about them for some reason. He sighed as he opened the book and started reading it to get his mind off things. But the thought of Sam kept flooding his mind. He wondered how he is right now, where he might be. He thought about how he's going to apologise to his brother.

Four and a half hours later when Bobby walked in and saw Dean reading some kind of book. He red the title name and joined his eyebrows together in confusion. Why is Dean reading a book about crossroad's deals?

"So why are you reading this for, Bobby?" Dean asked. His eyes still fixed on the book, raising his eyebrows at something that might have surprised him a little.

"What you talkin' about? I wasn't the one reading that." He cocked an eyebrow.

It didn't make any sense.

"So it wasn't you, it wasn't me." Dean looked up at Bobby. "Who else could be reading thi..." He realized. _Sam._ It was _Sam._

Dean wondered why was he reading such a book?

And his eyes widen as another realisation hit him. What if Sam was _going_ to... no, no, _no._

Dean remembered now. The words that sounded so much like a goodbye speech, the kind that sounded like you are just about to commit suicide.

_"You don't know how sorry I am, even I might not know. But I'll make it up to you. I promise."_

Dean looked back at Bobby. "Bobby, did you notice Sam acting a little... I dunno... different? That kind of makes you suspicious?" He asked.

"Well..." He thought about it. "This morning, I saw him startle and hide something. I thought it might've been some kind of bo.." He stilled, and looked at the book in Dean's hands.

_"I just.. I had some really important work to do."_

"Crap, I think we need to go now." Bobby sighed wearily. These boys are gonna be the death of him, someday.

They wasted no time as they ran out. None of the cars or trucks were missing, so Sam must have gone by foot. Dean climbed inside his newly-repaired Impala. He never expected his first ride to be for this. He looked at Bobby who took out the map and started reading it.

"The nearest crossroad is about a four hours away. But we can get there in about two hours if we go fast enough." Bobby instructed.

Dean gunned the engine and drove off.

* * *

Dean broke all the speed limits by now. He was furious, you could tell by the way he was holding the steering wheel. His knuckles were as pale as a white blank paper. How could his brother be the biggest geek in the whole world and at thd same time, be so stupid? He's gonna beat some sense into the idiot when he finds him. Not if, but _when._

It's been two hours now. Sam can't have gone that far. But how long has it been since he left?

Bobby stared at his furious posture. His knuckles white as it wrapped around the steering wheel, jaw clenched determinedly. His features angry.

Bobby sighed. "You know he ain't thinking straight."

"Damn straight." He growled angrily. "I mean, what the hell is that stupid moron thinking!" He yelled angrily, hitting the steering wheel furiously to let go of some of his anger. "Damnit!"

"Don't be mad at the kid. I think he had witnessed enough of it. We don't want you lashing out at him if we - "

"_When_." Dean cut him off.

"Right sorry, when... we find him. He's just..." He sighed, unsure of what word to say. "Desperate?"

"For what!" Dean yelled angrily.

"To make it all up to you, I guess. He thinks you hate him, Dean." Bobby shrugged.

Dean's anger melted as his face softened. Damn it. How much has he screwed up? How much had he pushed him away? Hurt him?

He hadn't realized that he had said it all out loud until Bobby answered his question.

"Honestly? A lot. But you'll be able to fix it." Bobby reassured and smiled. "Kid's real forgivin', ya know."

For some strange reason, that comforted him. It gave him a little bit of hope. Because it was so true. Sammy was always the forgiving one, always selfless and put others first; especially Dean. Loving too, very emotional though, and also self-willing. He could just apologise, throw in a dramatic apology speech and give him a hug, and Sammy would forgive him. It always worked.

But he knew he didn't deserve his forgiveness, not after all the things he said and did. If he did forgive him, he probably wouldn't know how to react. Should he be relieved? Or should he bitch-slap him, scream at him that _'how can you forgive me so easily!'._

Guess he'll just have to wait and see.

Dean had another thought that kept whirling inside his mind. "Hey Bobby?"

Bobby looked at him, letting him know that he had his attention.

"How long has it been since Sam has left?" He asked.

"What time is it?" Bobby asked.

He checked his watch. "Eleven."

He mentally counted and then said. "Six hours."

His eyes widen, slightly shocked. That seems to be enough time for him to reach there.

"Damnit." Dean whispered. He pressed harder on the pedals. He knew what he said and he's never regret something so much in his life, but he would never wanna trade his annoying, emotional, stupid and geeky pain-in-the-ass little brother for anyone.

_Not even dad._

* * *

Haha! So what do you think? I'm sorry for any mistakes there, especially with the whole 'time' thingy. I suck at math, it all gets so jumbled in my head and I'm just so confused. You know how I feel, right? :P and the nearest crossroad thingy's a made-up, as you would know. :D I'm just too lazy.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey Guys!

So I know how annoying it must be that my chapters are short, but they're still over 1000 words. :) and length doesn't matter, right? :D Thank youu all so much for your amazing reviews! Love you!

* * *

Chapter 7

**-_Two_**_** hours and a half earlier. 9PM.**_

Sam was exhausted. His feet hurt like hell for walking for like four hours, and for that he regrets not using one of Bobby's trucks. Maybe then he would've have gotten there by now if he used a vehicle. He took out a map that he stole from Bobby's truck. It was an extra one. He mentally calculated how much time it would take for him to get there.

He sat on the side of the deserted road, his duffel bag still hung on his shoulder. It doesn't matter how long it would take him anyway. It's not like Bobby and Dean are actually looking for him right now. He's sure Bobby isn't suspicious of him doing something like this. Dean wouldn't bother to care even if he told him straight about what he's about to do. But he still managed to sneak a letter inside Dean's duffel bag inside the Impala's trunk about all the things he's wanted to say to him. He decided that what he told him face-to-face wasn't enough. Because then it hit him at that moment;_ last_ words. Last words meant he'd never be able to talk to him ever again, tell him how much he meant, _still means_, to him. How much he was thankful for everything he did even though he never did it because he loved to, wanted to, but because he _thought_ he _had_ to. Because he was just another task or an order from his dad. But why? Was it because they thought he was too weak to take care of himself? But it still doesn't answer the question.

He sighed and shook his head to drive his thoughts away and focused. So he couldn't get that far by walking. He was still exhausted, he never got a good night's sleep these days. He was scared of his nightmares. The memory of that night just kept haunted him in his sleep, how he shot his dad. And then Dean's hateful words. His eyes had dark circles, so that explains enough.

He swallowed and brought a hand up his jaw, feeling the bruise. Those memories will always remind him of his place in Dean's life. He felt tears brimming in his eyes but quickly wiped it away and again, tried to focus. He looked at the map and counted. It would approximately take about a few hours to get there.

He sighed as he looked around. It was empty. No cars, no people, nothing. He let himself relax and breathe for a minute as he closed his eyes.

His eyes snapped open as he heard a rumble of a car and he stood up. He saw a black car heading here. It was practically a look-a-like of the Impala. Oh, how he wished it was. He ran in front of the car.

The car screeched and stopped just a few metres away from the Winchester.

A man came out, his dark blonde hair, chopped just like Dean's. He had dark green eyes. He looked to be about Dean's age. And he looked pissed.

"Dude, what the hell!" He screamed.

"Listen, I just... I need a ride.. please." Sam said pleadingly.

* * *

Twenty-five year old, Conrad Andrew had long before drove out of Sioux Falls, visiting his injured friend. It had been long since he had met his friend the last time. He had just gotten into a plane crash, and he was one of the lucky survivors. About twelve people survived the crash, the rest were unfortunate.

He sighed. "Damn it, Mark." He whispered sadly.

His eyes widen as a figure jumped in front of his car. He heard him call 'Stop! Stop!'. He slammed on the brakes just in time.

He got out and slammed the door shut angrily. "Dude! What the hell!" He screamed. What the hell was wrong with this stupid moron. Was he trying to suicide or something?

"Listen, I just... I need a ride.. please." He said pleadingly, and damn, his eyes were just.. so caving. He looked at the young man's face. His eyes had dark circles around them. His jaw had a huge forming bruise.

Maybe he was running away from his abusive parents or something. He always had a soft spot for broken people like these. But there was something more about this guy.

And his eyes... he _caved._

His face softened. He just stared at the man for a while before nodding slowly. "Yeah, sure." He gestured for him to come.

He gave a small smile, with gorgeous dimples that showed lightly. "Thank you."

Conrad smiled back. "No problem, man. Hey, by the way, I'm Conrad Andrew." He held out his hand.

"Sam,_ Sam Winchester_." He shook his hand.

"Well, Sam. Nice to meet you." He said as he walked to his car. "Where you headin' to?"

* * *

_-Present. **11PM.**_

Conward glanced at the young man beside him. "So, Sam." He took a deep breath. "What happened to your jaw?"

Sam looked at him. He swallowed and looked ahead. He didn't know how to answer him. It's been like two hours and they barely talked.

Conrad stared at Sam from the corner of his eye. The look on his face made him regret even asking. He probably didn't wanna talk about it. "Well, it's alright if you don't wanna answer it." He smiled.

Sam let out a sigh of relief.

"I was just wondering, there seems to be something bothering you." Conrad said.

"Um.. it's nothing. I just.. had a little fight with my big brother." He said, looking down shamefully.

"Happens." Conrad shrugged. "So, you both are close?" He asked.

Sam didn't know the answer. Were they? Dean hates him, but he still loves him; more than anything. Is that close?

"I.. don't know." Sam said, furrowing his eyebrows. It's funny, right? A stranger who barely knows you, seems to wanna help, seems to care. But the person you want? Doesn't give a damn.

"You can trust me, ya know. If you feel like you need someone to talk to." Conrad offered politely.

Sam looked down at his shoes, felt tears welling up. He wished Dean would say that. But Dean hates him, he doesn't care.

"He hates me." He whispered brokenly. "H-he hates me so much." He swallowed as tears flowed down his cheek.

Conrad's heart wrenched a little in sympathy and pity. He had never met someone who made him feel that way. There was something about Sam; something about the hunched posture, the broken look he wore. There was just something about the hopelessness and the loneliness in his eyes.

He saw his shoulders shaking, and he heard a sob escape from him. Maybe that answered his question, except it was one-sided. And that's how he knew how much he loved his brother..

He slowly reached out and squeezed his trembling shoulder. "It's okay, buddy."

"H-he said it himself." He sobbed. "An-and... he blames me.. f-for _everything_. He said it's my fault th-that our dad died, a-and that it's my fault that our mom died. and I-I know that, but I thought h-he didn't blame m-me." His voice cracked and his breath hitched. "H-he said I-I should've been dead instead of my d-dad."

Conrad rubs his back with one arm soothingly, the other arm stayed on the steering wheel. "It's alright, buddy, it's alright." He bit his lip. How could someone say such words to him?

"He s-said I shouldn't h-have been born, a-and h-he hit m-me. H-he's d-disgusted with me. H-he never.. I.. I don't know what to do." He sobbed. "I-I just don't wanna be h-hurt an-anymore."

"It's alright.. I understand ya." He soothed.

"No! You don't understand!" More and more tears poured down his face. "No-nobody does.."

He didn't know what to say, so he just settled with the physical comfort as he rubbed his back, while he drove with the other arm.

He did it until the young man cried himself to sleep.

* * *

_-2 Hours later._

Sam was shook awake. He jolted up and looked around.

"Hey, we're here, buddy." Conrad smiled.

Sam smiled back. "Thanks for everything, Conrad."

"No problem. So, I hope we meet again someday." He smiled. "It was nice meeting ya." He said, earning himself a smile.

Conrad looked around. "Are you sure this is the right place? there's nothing here." He asked, confused.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He smiled and climbed out of the car. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat.

Conrad waved at him one last time before driving off.

Sam sighed shakily as he started walking. He was scared, he'll concede. He didn't wanna go to hell. He always wanted to go to heaven, meet mom and finally know what it's like to feel a mother's love. Even though Dean had given him that. He wanted to meet Jess too. He wanted to meet dad before he went.

He put his duffel bag down and took out some things. He bent down and started digging on the ground with his fingers.

* * *

Hahaaaaaa! ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! Awww! Poor Sammy. He's hurting too much.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N. Hahaa! OMG! Yoou guys! I love you so much! :) Thank you all for the support.

Reply to jane : Well, I'm sorry you didn't like it. But I hope you enjoy this chapter.

OMG! How do I thank you all? :P

* * *

Chapter 8

He put his duffel bag down and took out some things. He bent down and started digging on the ground with his fingers. He clawed at the ground even as his fingers started bleeding.

He took a brown wooden box filled with a black cat bone, graveyard dirt and a small photo of himself. He put the box inside the hole and started covering the hole occupied by the box. He stood up and took a deep breath as he looked around.

"Show yourself!" He screamed as he looked around. He tried to control his shaky breathing. He was scared, but he knows what's worse is being alone; worse is Dean hating him.

"Sammy Winchester... what brings you here?" A female voice said.

Sam turned around to see a beautiful woman, or the demon's host, that is. She had black hair, smoky dark blue eyes, and she worse a plain black dress. Her eyes flashed red as she blinked and smirked wickedly.

"I wanna make a deal." Sam said stoicly. He let his mask crumble once. But not this time. Especially when this is no time for it.

"A deal?" She raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Well then, what do you need?" She asked as she smirked again.

"I want dad." Sam said solemnly.

"Aww, how sweet. Little Sammy wants daddy back?" She stuck out his bottom lip as she mocked.

Sam wanted to slap that smug expression off her face. But she's a demon, and he knew his anger or sadness would satisfy her even more.

"Yeah, me for dad." He said.

"Hm.. but first.. I wanna _talk_, Sammy." She smiled as he ran her fingers on his shoulder as she walked around him. "So, who gave you this... _idea_?" She asked, and he could hear her smirk again as she stopped behind him. "Was it you, Sammy? Or was it daddy?" She asked.

Sam stayed quiet, keeping his poker face firm as she continued to walk around him. She let her fingers brush his hair but he jerked away from her touch.

She finally stopped in front of him and she leaned in to whisper into his ear. "Or was it Dean?" She smiled wickedly.

Sam's face softened. He swallowed down the lump at the mention of his brother.

His eyes welled as she continued to whisper tauntingly into his ear. "Was it big brother, Sammy? Did he throw you out of his life like a rag doll? Did big brother had enough of your _whiny_, _pathetic_ ass?"

"I'm not here to play games." He said shakily as he closed his eyes. His mask was crumbling... _again_.

"It's true, isn't it? Big brother doesn't want you anymore, can't even _stand_ to look at you. He wouldn't even let you touch him, right?" She taunted. "The truth is, Sammy... he never wanted you... never loved you.."

Sam pushed her away. "Please... just bring my dad back." He swallowed.

"Why, Sammy? Too scared of the truth?" She chuckled. "The truth is, Sam.. you were always the weak one in your family. Daddy knew it. Dean knew it." She points at his chest. "And _you do too_."

"I wanna make a deal, I'm not here to play games. Just bring my dad back and you can have me." He said, building up his stoic mask once again.

"Sorry Sammy.. but no deal." She said as she crossed her arms.

"What? No, please... I don't need 10 years, I don't need any time. You can take me to hell - "

"I'd rather watch you suffer." She spread her arms. "This _is_ hell for you, Sammy. What could be better than this? Big brother hating you for shooting daddy, hating you for _everything_, even the things you had no control over." She smirked.

"Besides, do you really think anyone would wanna keep your _worthless_ soul?" She laughed bitterly.

Sam swallowed again as she disappeared. He slowly turned, looking like a lost puppy as Dean would say it, as he stared down at the floor. He started walking after picking his duffel bag up. He let his tears slip down his cheek as he walked but he angrily wiped them away. God, he _is_ weak. He realised that he had nowhere to go. He didn't wanna go to Bobby's. He knew Dean wouldn't want him there. He couldn't go back.

_I have nowhere to go. _He thought miserably._ I don't know where to go._

And his knees buckled right in the middle of the vacant road. Maybe he can cry a little, it's not like there's anybody here.

He cried freely. Nobody to judge him on his weakness. But nobody to comfort him either.

He was worthless. He couldn't bring dad back. He can't do anything right. He never did. All he did was screw everything up.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." He whispered as tears made their way down his cheeks. How will he fix this?

He let himself cry freely as he closed his eyes. No need to hold back.

He cried there, alone, for god knows how long.

But suddenly, he heard something. He opened his eyes and he looked at his side. He stood up as a car sped down the road. He stood stock still and frozen, his eyes wide in shock. He had no idea what to do.

Because the car was coming right at him.

* * *

"Goddamnit Sam!" Dean said furiously as he looked at both sides while he drove, hoping to find Sam curled up somewhere on the sidewalk, looking like a lost puppy. He hit the steering wheel once again furiously, muttering curses.

Bobby sighed. "Idjit." He muttered.

Dean's face crumpled. He looked like he was on the verge of tears as he looked around, and surely, his vision blurred. "Sammy.." He whispered.

Bobby's heart broke a little. He never saw the older Winchester cry. He was always nail strong. But if there was anything that could make him cry, he knew it was Sam. If he's hurt badly, or missing for too long or crying.

He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "It's alright, kid. We'll find him." Bobby comforted.

Dean nodded and sighed. He continued his search as he looked around. When suddenly...

"**DEAN, LOOK OUT!**" Bobby yelled.

Dean slammed on the breaks, the car screeched. But it was too late, they've already hit a tall, lanky form as it flew over the car.

* * *

OMG! LMFAOO! Another cliffy! WOW! You guys must be hating me for this. :P But hey, fast updates. :D You guys must be loving me for that. LOL.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N. Hello! :) Thank you all so much for the reviews. I love you all so much and I'n really glad you're enjoying the story. Good day. :) OMG! Listen to 'What Hurts The Most' by Rascal flatts. God, I love that band. :P

* * *

Chapter 10

Sam felt the sharp pain hit and shoot all over his body as he flew over the car. The intense pain made his sight fill with black dots and he let out a gasp when he felt his body connect with the ground. He clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. God, it hurts so much. These past few days have all been pain, _pain_, _**pain**_.

When his vision cleared a little, he tried to lift his head up to see who had hit him. And he saw... He saw the Impala. He was feeling so confused. It was like everything in his mind was all jumbled up. So he couldn't understand anything at the time.

He felt relief wash down on him as he saw his brother's car.

_Dean's here now_, He thought to himself, feeling relieved_. Dean's here, he'll make everything better. He always made everything better, he'll help me through all my pain, he'll -  
_

_No... Dean's hates me, I'm a burden to him. He hates me... He doesn't want me anymore... He never did... That's why he hit me with his car._

_He couldn't bring dad back, maybe he'll hate me even more when he finds that out._

_Maybe I do know how to fix this... If I just let go.._

Dean comes out of the car, staring at his phone. His weary, pained eyes stared at Dean. It's good, right? The last person he's ever going to see before he dies is his brother.

* * *

Dean and Bobby stared wide-eyed as they just hit someone.

"Shit!" Dean said furiously. They didn't have time for this. He had to find his little brother before he made the damn deal! He threw open the door, taking out his cellphone, planning to make an anonymous call to the hospital as he started walking towards the man. He was just about to dial 911 until he saw the man's face and he froze, stopped dead in his tracks.

His little brother's face stared at him, he saw his eyes glint with tears, and he felt his own eyes well up when he saw him try to smile at him, he managed to give a small shaky smile. "It's okay, De." He whispered softly.

"Sammy?" He asked shakily. No... he did not just hit his own brother. "**SAMMY!**" He dropped his phone and ran to his brother's side.

"Oh God.. Oh God.." He repeated again and again in horror as he ran his shaky hands down his clothes, inspecting his injuries. He heard a cry of pain from his brother.

"**BOBBY!**" He screamed.

A few seconds later, Bobby appeared beside him as he asked. "What is it, D - " His eyes caught Sam's face. "Oh God, kid?"

"Call 911.." He said shakily as he looked at Bobby with tear-filled eyes. He moved as he lifted his little brother's upper body and brought his face to his shoulder and started rocking back and forth.

Bobby called 911 as he turned away to tell them the details.

"Sammy, hey, stay awake for me, please." He said desperately to his little brother. He got no response. "Sammy?" He furrowed his eyebrows. He cupped his little brother's face and lifted it off his shoulder and he saw that his eyes had slipped closed. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Sammy?" He whispered as he patted his cheek. He still didn't wake up.

"Sammy, wake up.." He whispered. "Sammy, come on, please." He shook him a little. "Sammy?" He whispered again as he shook him a little harder. "No, no, no... don't do this... don't you dare do this... to me.." He shook him harder. "SAM!" He screamed.

He looked down at his still chest. "No, no, no, no." He repeated frantically, he grabbed his hand and put it to his own chest. "Sammy, please." He let a few tears pur down his face. He didn't care. He brought his body closer to his own and tightened his grip around him.

He heard sirens on the way. The ambulance came at a stop and a few people jumped out with a gurney. They took Sam away from Dean as they put him on the gurney and took him inside.

Dean stood up and followed them to the ambulance but then a few nurses stopped him.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't go in." A male nurse said politely.

"What the hell do you mean I can't! He's my brother!" He yelled angrily at them, the female nurse startled from his outburst.

"I'm sorry, but we can't let you come."

Dean was just about to reach for his collar before Bobby grabbed him by the arm. "Dean, we'll follow them behind with the Impala, okay?" Bobby said.

He stared at Bobby before he sighed internally before nodding.

Dean stared at his little brother's head as the ambulance doors closed and drove off.

Bobby tugged at his arm and gestured with his head to the car. Dean walked off to sit on the passenger seat and stared ahead.

Bobby stared at him amusedly, trying to lighten their moods. "Really Dean? You want me to drive?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded uncaringly as he fixed his eyes straight ahead.

Bobby climbed inside the driver's seat and rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "He'll be okay."

"_We_ won't be." He whispered sadly.

Bobby sighed. "You will. You always did."

"I don't think he wanted to fight anymore.." He blurted out.

Bobby stared, slightly shocked.

"I mean, when I saw him... he looked... happy, like he didn't even care that he might..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the word. "He tried to smile and he said, 'it's okay.'. Like he didn't care that his own brother just ran him over by a freakin' car... He thought I did it on purpose..." He swallowed. "God, he thought I did it on purpose.."

Bobby stared at him sadly.

"I didn't mean to push him away like that." He whispered.

"I know you didn't." He squeezed his shoulder once again.

"And then, one minute he was breathing, the next he wasn't... like he didn't even try... he just... let go." His eyes filled. "Bobby, what if my last words to him we - "

"Don't say that, ya know he'll make it. That kid's strong."

"Only for me, now he probably thinks he doesn't have anyone to fight for. Goddamnit! This is all my fault!"

"You had a part in it, sure, but I shouldn't have let him walk out of that door in the first place."

"It's my fault! I was the one who pushed him away, said words that I shouldn't have!"

"It's both our faults, and that's that. Now what's done is done, all we need to worry about is to make it up to him by being there for the kid. And you need to apologise to him for all the crap you said to him."

Dean nodded. "Okay." He said, he was still guilty, this conversation barely made him feel better, especially with another thing added to the list. But he just hopes he can make it up to his kid brother.

Bobby sighed and squeezed his shoulder once before gunning the engine.

"Hey, can I drive?" Dean asked.

"Your car, your choice." Bobby shrugged.

* * *

OMG! I hope it was okay. Thank you all so much for your support! :)


	10. Chapter 10

A/N. HI! :) You guys are amazing! I can't thank you enough for your lovely support! That's why I keep writing.

Sorry guys, don't have much medical knowledge. :P

* * *

Chapter 10

Sam's heart had stopped... _twice_. Once again during the surgery. He had three broken ribs, two bruised. A head injury, broken leg. A bruise right below his eye, split lip, broken wrist and a punctured lung. Thankfully, the doctors have took care of everything, but he still hasn't woken up yet. It's been a day now, but it felt more like weeks to Dean as he sat beside his baby brother who had tubes and wires sticking from his body, his upper body sat a little upright, his mouth gaping from the tube in his throat. The thing that keeps him breathing since he can't even freakin' _breathe_ on his own. And that just adds to the list of things he should be guilty about, because _he_ did this.

He rested a light hand on his little brother's bony wrist. The kid had surely lost some weight, his eyes still had dark circles under his eyes. He sighed heavily as he rubbed circles on the back of his hand. "Come on, Sammy... wake up." He whispered softly to his unconcious little brother. "I know I screwed up, but you gotta keep fighting... I know you think you have no one to fight for... but I'm here, Sammy. I want you to fight, _for me_." He felt more tears coming up, but he didn't let them escape. "Because if you're _gone_... then I'm giving up." He said roughly but his voice cracked. "_Please_."

Dean stared at Sam for a while, he didn't even twitch. He swiped at his eyes to wipe off the unshed tears. He heard a knock and he looked back to find Bobby holding his duffel bag. He walked in and placed his duffel bag on the floor, right beside the nightstand.

"So, how's he doin'? Did he wake up?" Bobby asked.

"No." Dean sighed distressedly.

Bobby reached and squeezed his shoulder once before letting out a sigh himself. "Your bag was open, I saw a paper inside and... I found something." He said as he held out a folded paper.

Dean took the paper and looked at Bobby.

"It's from Sam, and don't worry, I didn't read a thing." He smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes, he looked down at the paper, wondering what could be written inside, part of him doesn't want to know.

Bobby sighed. "I'll go get ya somethin' ta' eat." He patted his back and walked out.

Dean bit his lip as he unfolded the letter and started reading Sam's scribbling writing.

_Dear Dean,_

_I know you don't want anything to do with me, you don't wanna hear anything from me. You probably threw it away the minute you saw who it's from, but if you're reading this then... well, that's good. I just wanted to say that, since I probably won't be there to say this again, I never said it, I know. But I love you, always had, always will. Even if you don't. I know what I did, I took mom and dad away from you, screwed up your childhood and life by simply existing, coming into your life. By now, you could've been married to a beautiful woman, living a normal life in one of those suburban houses if it weren't for me. Everytime I think about that, I'd wish that mom would've left me there to die, like you wanted, and I don't blame you for that. I wanna make it up to you for everything. Anyway, the whole point of this letter was that I love you. You mean the world to me, Dean. I love you more than anything, more than myself, even more than mom who I've never met, more than dad, even more than Jess. If you ever decide to forgive me for what I've done, even though I get that I don't deserve it, but if you do, then thank you. I wouldn't blame you if you're going to hold this grudge against me forever, even after I'm gone, but know that what I did that night, was for you, to save you._

_I'm so sorry for everything, Dean. I'm really sorry._

_Love, __Sam.__  
_

Dean swallowed the lump growing in his throat as he red the letter. This is how Sam thinks and it's making him feel even crappier than he did. He put his hand on his wrist again and squeezed lightly. "Love you too, Sammy." He whispered. It wasn't so hard to say it this time, he owed him that anyway after telling that he didn't. He sighed as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his little brother's forehead.

"Trust you to drag me into a stupid chick-flick moment, even when you're freakin' asleep." He said after pulling back.

He looked at the heart monitor, beeping rhythmically as it moved it waves. He almost lost him, all because of his stupidity. He almost lost him in exchange for dad. He'd do anything to have his dad back, anything but give his brother away. He didn't know how, he was sure they had to be late. But whatever happened, he sent a silent 'thank you' to God upstairs.

His words, that face, they'll always haunt him. He knew that. It was something he'll never forgive himself for, something he'll hate himself for forever.

_"It's okay, De."_

But as long as he'll have his baby brother around, he can be alright.

He'll never understand, how after everything he's done, Sam could forgive him. Dean turned his face to his little brother and smoothed his bangs off his eyes.

"It's okay, Sammy... you'll be okay... just keep fighting, alright?"

_"As long as I'm around... nothing bad is gonna happen to you."_

* * *

Hahahaa! Sooo, too much? :P Thank you guys soo much for the support! :) I have like 200 reviews in Abusing Forgiveness, 80 reviews in Mentally broken and now this... God, you guys are awesome. I'm really glad you're enjoying this.


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all so much! I'm very thrilled from your amazing support! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I haven't updated in a while, I'm so sorry, guys. Well, the thing is, there was some 'recent infraction' on my account. :/ stuuuupid.

* * *

CHAPTER 11

It's been one week now. Sam hasn't woken up from his state yet. Dean had been there beside him, sacrificing all his needs to look after his baby brother. He doesn't eat, mostly because he can't. He can't even think about food without feeling nauseous, because all his words and his actions towards his little brother had left him guiltier than any time in his whole life. He can barely sleep because all he could think of was if his brother's going to be fine, or if _they're_ going to be fine. Would they ever be the same again? He wasn't stupid, he was aware of the fact that the words he said aren't something that can be forgotten. Especially if it was his own brother who'd say that to him.

He moved his hand that rested on his arm to his wrist and sighed heavily as he looked into his closed eyes. "Ya know...I never told you 'bout mom." He smiled. "She was beautiful. She had hazel eyes just like yours. She had so many things that you had. She was just like you sweet, caring, loving, always putting everyone above herself. She was... she was amazing." He said, a slight bit of sadness in his voice. "Every night, she'd sing 'Hey Jude' to us, and we'd be out like a light, and when I'd be sick, she'd make tomato rice soup. Man... she made the best pies... you always wondered why I loved pies... well, I guess that's why." He sighed.

A long stretch of silence ensued as Dean stared quietly at his still-unconcious little brother, until his face twisted into what looked like desperation and a sigh that he was about to break down as he replayed his own goddamned words in his mind. "Sammy, come on... wake up, _for me_." He whispered pleadingly while he tried to shut off the small voice in the deep back of his mind.

_How could you?_

_How could you do this? How could you push him away like that? How could you act so careless and unloving towards_ your own brother? _The same brother who had to make a difficult decision between saving your ass and killing his own dad while living with the pain and guilt for the rest of his life? And yet, he still chose you. How could you make that even worse for him by blaming him yourself? For not only dad's death but mom's, same as Jess'?_

_How could you?_

Dean's own voice criticised him inside his head. And he knew he deserved all of it, but he knew he couldn't take any of it anymore. He _needed_ to get away from it...all of it. His eyes moved from where he stared unfocusedly at his hand, which rested on his little brother's wrist, and looked straight into his closed eyes. He bit his lip and smoothed his bangs out of the way before he whispered. "I'll be right back, kiddo." He stood up and walked out, finding Bobby just about to walk inside the antiseptic smelling room.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" Bobby asked, wondering where he's going since he's refused constantly to move from his brother's side. And now he's...going out.

"You just look after Sammy, I'll be right back." He told his surrogate father and before Bobby could say anything more, he took off hurriedly.

"Uh... alright, then." He said and walked inside the room as he shook his head and muttered something in a low, incoherent voice and sighed as he took a look at Sam. "Ah, kid." He paused his walking as he said before continuing towards him and pulled a chair beside him. "Dunno what your idjit brother's up to now... ya need ta' wake up before your stupid brother kills himself like this. That damn idjit doesn't eat, barely sleeps, never even leaves your side for a minute unless he needs ta' go toilet or somethin'. All he does is babble to ya 'bout everything...and by everything, I mean everything. From hot nurses, to his car, to your mother, to your childhood." He complained as he whooshed out an air of exasperation. He let a long silent minute pass before he continued talking as he stared sadly. "He's scared, thinking that ya stopped fighting. But I think that there's still a part of you in there that still kept goin'." He said and sighed heavily. "Ya can't leave im' like this, kid. Ya need ta' wake up."

* * *

Dean drove, uncaring about the reckless driving and the speed limits as he drove down the empty, deserted road. He needed someone to help him, he needed _her_ to help him. He needed to get all this crap off his chest, although it's not his way of dealing, but it doesn't matter anymore, because this was the same excuse that made him scream at his baby brother angrily.

He had drove on for four hours. He risked a quick glance to his watch and the arrows pointed to 3:24pm.

He kept driving until his windows filled with views of graves of the passed away, or in short, dead people. He pulled his baby at the side of the road and sighed heavily as he looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes were colored with dark shadows around them from lack of a good, proper sleep. He looked a little thinner than usual from barely eating but otherwise, he was completely fine.

He pushed the door open and climbed out, staring at the golden sun that shone brightly on his face. He sighed and started walking slowly towards a grave, the warm wind blowing his clothes as it hit his face.

He fell to his knees in front of the grave that red out to him:

_Mary Winchester_

_December 5, 1954 November 2, 1983_

"Mom, I screwed up..." He whispered brokenly. "I didn't mean to... _goddamnit_!" He practically screamed out the last words as he let his face crumple. "Mom, help me please... I can't... I don't know what to do. I don't know if we'll ever be the same again... I want us to be the same, mom... mom, help me _please_." His voice cracked on the last word.

"I didn't know what to do... I was so... _so_ angry, I just... everytime I saw him, I just... I saw red everywhere because I can't..." He breathed in a shaky breath and continued. "I can't _not_ remember that damn colt in his hand. I can't _not_ remember him pulling the trigger at dad." He said as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't care, he's lost... losing everyone he loves, and god... he's tired, _sick_ and _tired_ of it all.

"I didn't give a damn after he died...about anything...not even Sammy. I was so _angry_ at _everything_, the Yellow-eyed demon, dad, life, this world...Sammy. Mom, I didn't know what to do, I just had to take it all out on something... I guess I just never thought it'd go that far." He bit his trembling bottom lip. "Mom, help me.."

His eyes widen slightly as the wind suddenly picked up and thickened as it blew over him. He looked around and stilled as he thought he heard a soft, soothing femine voice whisper in the air.

"_I'm here, baby_."


	12. Chapter 12

THANKS: Thanks to all of those who have favorited and alerted my stories! :) And to all my lovely reviewers from the last chapter. AngelOfToday096, jensensgirl3, angeleyenc, Emmajfjch, lizziemarie0529, deanheart22, babyreaper, Apocalyxtic98, BloodyRosie, DodoRaFan, KrialovesSPN, where the wind blows, bearberry915, Panda24. You guys are all so awesome! :) I'm really glad you're enjoying this.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

Sam moaned as he struggled to regain his conciousness, shifting his heavy body a little in pain. His mind felt fuzzy and drugged and so _confused_, which is why he couldn't understand or remember why he was in a hospital or how, and his whole body ached like a bitch. _Where's Dean_? He wondered. The next thing he felt was suffocating pain in his throat, like he was being choked...wait, was he being strangled? He started panicking, but he relaxed when he felt a warm hand on his arm. _Dean_. He told himself, feeling relieved.

"..._Kid_?" Bobby breathed out his name in a relieved manner. "You're finally awake."

He felt slightly disappointed when he heard Bobby's voice. He lifted his heavy-lidded eyes open and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around when Dean was nowhere to be seen. _Where was Dean_?

He felt an itch mixed with pain inside his throat, and before he knew it, he started coughing while frantically grabbing at his throat.

"Hold on, I'll get the doctor!" Bobby said and ran out.

He kept coughing and coughing. He heard running footsteps of the doctor and couldn't wait to get this damn thing out of his throat.

"Sam, I want you to cough as hard as you can once I get this tube out, are you understanding me?" The doctor asked and continued after his patient nodded. "Ok, on three...one...two...three!" The tube was pulled out and he coughed out as hard as he can as his back lifted off the bed and he jerked forward, grabbing at his throat.

And finally fell back on the bed, breathing heavily.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" The doctor asked politely.

"Well, not so good, actually." Sam told the doctor honestly and shrugged lightly with one shoulder.

The doctor chuckled and smiled. "Well, I'll send a nurse to give you some painkillers." He offered politely.

Sam nodded and smiled softly until the doctor walked out. He turned his head to Bobby. "Hey Bobby."

"So, ya finally decided ta' wake up, princess." Bobby said as he smiled.

Sam gave him a shy smile as he looked down and sighed as he looked up. "So...where's Dean?" He asked hopefully as he shifted again in pain. His whole body was aching like he's been ran over by a c-

Suddenly, it all came to him in flashes, like a movie. _Shooting dad. Dean's hateful words and actions. Making it up. The crossroads deal. Dean hitting him with his car. The burning pain all over his body. Staring at Dean while he stared at him back...and then nothing_.

Bobby opened his mouth, but clammed it shut when he realised that...he had no idea where the elder Winchester was. He just told him to look after Sam and took off.

His eyes drifted up at Bobby slowly. "He's..." He swallowed as tears filled his eyes. "He's not here, is he?"

"No, Sa - " Bobby said but got cut off.

"No, no, it's okay." Sam said and sniffed lightly. "Um, so how have you been?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

Bobby was aware of the fact, but decided to go along with it. "Well, honestly...I've been worried out of my ass for ya."

Sam chuckled as he blinked back his tears, wishing Dean was here.

"Now, forget about me and let's talk about you. _How are you_?" He asked, and he wasn't talking about his physical wounds.

And Sam was well aware of it, but decided to play dumb. "Well, I'm good."

"I'm not talking about that, kid. And you know that too." Bobby said as he crossed his arms.

Sam sighed wearily. Busted. "I'm fine, Bobby." He tried to reassure him. Bobby just stared at him warily. "_I am_." He repeated.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Don't lie to me, boy."

"Bobby, I just got what I deserve, alright?... I mean...he was right to say that." He shrugged lightly. "That demon's always been after me...and that's why they all got killed. Mom, dad, Jess, _everyone_." His voice broke. "That's why Dean never had a normal life."

"No, that isn't _your_ fault, kid. If ya wanna blame someone, blame your daddy." Bobby said.

Sam shook his head as he played with his fingers. "It's not dad's fault. Dad just did the best he could. I think he would've gone crazy if he didn't do something about mom's death. If anyone's to blame, it's me. Mom died because of me, and so did dad. Dean blames me for it too, maybe dad does too...maybe that's why I've always been second best." He bit his lower lip.

Bobby shook his head and was about to say something but a knock interrupted him and they both looked over to find a nurse. "May I come in?"

Sam nodded lightly.

"Well, I've been sent here to give you some painkillers for your discomfort. So, how are you feeling?" The nurse asked as she walked over to Sam's bed with a syringe.

"Fine." He mumbled quietly.

She stuck the syringe and pressed down the liquid into his IV. "That's good." She stood back and smiled. "Now, it's gonna take some time for the painkillers to kick in, alright?" She explained and patted his shoulder. "You'll be good as new in no time." She smiled politely and walked out.

"Well, if Dean were here, he'd definitely flirt with her." Bobby said.

* * *

Ok, I hope you enjoyed it! Oh, no medical knowledge, I'm an idiot. :) Drugged!Sammy and Dean meet next chapter. :D


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you so much to all the people who faved, alerted me and my story. :) And my awesome reviewers, deanheart22, babyreaper, AngelOfToday096, nagla11, Karate For Kurata, LeighAnnWallace, anon, jensensgirl3, KrialovesSPN, Panda24, bearberry915, angeleyenc, where the wind blows, Apocalyxtic98, BloodyRosie, Sense of Peace, AlElizabeth. Thank you all so much!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Dean stood outside of his little brother's room, hands deep inside his pocket. Mom's with him now, but he still felt scared. The kind of words he said, couldn't just be forgotten. He sighed heavily and pulled a hand out of his pocket, moving it to close it around the amulet on his chest. _But if that's what it takes to be the same again - then I'll_ make _him forget those words_. He promised to himself.

He sighed inwardly and was about to push the door open, but stopped himself when he heard voices. One voice belonged to Bobby, and the other to..._Sam_? _Sam's awake_? He wondered. Then he heard him again and felt a surge of relief and excitement rush through his veins. But then, it disappeared as it went when he heard him talk.

"No matter what I do, they all leave." He said, he sounded like he was drunk or drugged, which he probably was. "They all leave me, one way or another." He sniffed lightly. "Why?" His voice broke. "Why do they all leave me, Bobby?" He asked in such a way that he couldn't help but flash back to when Sam was five years old and he'd ask innocent questions that got harder and harder to answer each year. "_Am I that bad?_" He heard him ask and felt a pang of guilt wrench his gut. He was all Sam had, and he thinks he lost him, thinks Dean left him.

He pushed the creaking door open. Bobby had his mouth open, like he was just about to say something but got cut off by Dean's arrival as they both looked over at him.

"There you are, boy! Where the you been?" Bobby asked as he got up from the chair and walked up towards Dean.

"I just...went for a drive." Dean answered.

Sam was too drug-minded to grasp the fact in his words. He stared at Dean with a mixture of astonishment and confusion. Why was Dean here?

Bobby changed gazes between the boys, first Dean, then Sam, then back at Dean. "I'll give you both some privacy." Bobby said and smiled as he walked out, hoping that all the problems get solved between the brothers.

Dean watched Bobby leave over his shoulder and turned his gaze to Sam, who still stared at him. He sighed and walked to Sam slowly and stood awkwardly over him. The silence was long and uneasy, and he wasn't exactly sure how to start his apology speech.

Sam stared at Dean with eyes that held a small glimmer of hope. He smiled shakily as he whispered out his big brother's name softly. "Dean?" He asked, hoping he wasn't hallucinating all of it or something. He reached out a trembling hand towards his brother's shoulder, wanting to make sure that it was all real and not his mind playing tricks on him.

But he stopped, just a few milimeters away from touching him, as his prior angry words screamed at him inside his head, the memories of him hitting him for even touching him flooding his mind.

_"Don't touch me!"_

_"Stay the hell away from me!"_

He was disgusting, and that's why Dean didn't wanna be touched by his filthy murderous hands. He killed everyone...everyone that Dean loved. And that's why he slowly pulled back his bloody and murderous hands back to himself.

He stared at him and swallowed, his eyes slowly drifting down to his fist, waiting for him to snap angrily at him or hit him.

But it never came.

"S-sorry." He apologised as he struggled to control his tears.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He pulled a chair beside his little brother, the chair screeching against the floor made Sam flinch slightly and Dean pretended not to notice, although he felt a pang of hurt and shame flood down on him.

"_Sam_.." He said softly.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry I couldn't make the deal." He whispered shamefully, so softly that Dean barely heard it.

"Sa - " Dean retried again but got cut off.

"Tried, Dean...I tried." He bit his bottom lip and looked down at his hands. "She said she didn't want my worthless soul." He whispered softly and tears filled his eyes, but he huffed a small humorless laugh anyway. "I guess that's what I am, huh?" He looked up at Dean. "_Worthless_. To dad...to _you_." His voice broke slightly at the last word. "I can't do anything right...can't even do a stupid deal right."

Dean wanted to stop him from talking. Because it all made him feel even lower than he did. But his little brother needed this, something that he didn't give him and for what?

"I..." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I didn't know what to do, Dean." He looked at Dean with desperate, pleading eyes, pleading with him to understand. "I didn't want to take them away from you. I didn't wanna shoot dad...but I didn't wanna let you die either." He felt something wet and warm trail down his cheek and he bit his lower lip that started to tremble. "But I guess...if I would've known it all...I would've put a bullet in my own chest a long time ago, before I took anyone else away from you." He whispered and more tears filled his eyes, but he swiped at them angrily. "I'm sorry."

Dean looked up at Sam and felt his eyes widen at his self-hatred words. "Sammy, I..." He started to protest but closed his mouth as he saw that Sam's eyes have drifted shut. And he felt salty water fill his own eyes. This wasn't how he meant to make him feel.

He got off the chair and sat beside his oblivious little brother on the best, rested his back against the headboard and brought his head to his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

"_I'm_ sorry." Dean whispered softly into his hair.


	14. Chapter 14

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: Thank you all so much for reviewing, alerting and faving this story. I'm really thrilled with your support! :) You guys rock!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

The next morning. Bobby pulled his truck to a stop outside of his house. Sam was in the passenger seat, slumped against the door with his head resting against the cool window while Dean followed them behind in the Impala. Bobby had seen the hurt expression on his face when Sam had told them that he wanted to go with Bobby and he knew exactly why, because Sam still thought his brother didn't want him around. They got out of the hospital in the early morning, knowing that the youngest Winchester can recover at Bobby's house better.

"I can take it from here, Bobby." Sam said kindly and gave him a flicker of a smile. He removed his arm off Bobby's shoulder and slowly limped his way towards the couch inside the library.

"Sam, there's a room upstairs, ya know." Bobby reminded as he followed him and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but I'm just, ya know, not feeling up to walking the stairs." Sam replied and shrugged slightly as he tried to make himself comfortable on the couch, since his six ft. four frame doesn't seem to fit quite well on it.

Bobby sighed and nodded. The kid must be tired, he knew that. He's been using the couch ever since that tragic night, where he was forced to shoot his daddy and put a huge strain on his relationship with his brother. He probably still thought his brother didn't want him around.

"Sam.." He started but got cut off.

"Jus' wanna sleep, Bobby. Maybe we could talk later, 'kay?" Sam said sleepily. Bobby knew he was avoiding the subject, but sighed and reluctantly played along with it as he nodded slowly, knowing the kid does need some shut-eye, and walked out.

He went inside the kitchen and towards the fridge, took out a beer bottle and poured himself a glass, running a hand down his weary face. He couldn't imagine what they both must be going through, one from the heartache and pain, the other from guilt and shame. He knew Dean was the only one who could fix this, because honestly, he had sort of been the one to start all of this.

"Why is Sammy taking the couch?" Dean asked Bobby confusedly as he walked inside the kitchen, wondering why his brother would prefer an uncomfortable couch that's doesn't even fit his size over a soft, comfy and big enough for his six ft. four frame bed.

The sudden voice startled Bobby slightly, but he still turned around to face Dean and shrugged slightly. "Said he doesn't feel up ta' walking the stairs." He answered and took another swig of his beer.

Dean nodded slightly and sighed softly, grabbing a chair and plopping down, letting his elbows rest on the table and running both of his hands down his weary face. He didn't even know how to apologize to Sam, he didn't even know where to start. He had no idea how to make all of this right, how to put the pieces of their relationship back together, especially after Sam's confession at the hospital that had added more to his guilt list.

Bobby didn't need to ask what was bothering him, because he knew, and he understood what he was going through. It wasn't easy to just go and apologize to the person when you know the kind of words you said are always gonna live inside their head, _forever_. So instead, he just poured another glass and held it out to him. "Drink?"

**XxX**

Sam limped towards the chair quietly and slowly. He pulled one of the seats and sat down slowly. His injuries hadn't healed completely and they still hurt like hell when he makes a sudden movement. Bobby turned around at the screeching sound to find Sam. "Kid?" Bobby said softly as Sam looked up at him. "Ya know, ya coulda' told me. I would've helped ya here."

Sam sighed. "Bobby, I'm fine." He said and gave a small smile of reassurance.

"Ya don' look like it by the way you're limping like an ol' granpa." Bobby joked lightly, it brought a small huff of laughter from Sam and his heart warmed at the soft chuckle. Ever since the death of his dad, he barely smiled, let alone laughed these days.

"So what's for breakfast?" Dean asked cheerily from the doorway, breaking into their conversation, which made the two other men turn their attention to him.

"Bacon, eggs and toast." Bobby answered casually.

Dean grinned and walked over to sit on one of the chairs, purposefully avoiding eye contact with his little brother as he immediately turned his head to Bobby, because he couldn't do it, couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes and see all of that pain and hurt that _he_ caused, all the guilt that Sammy doesn't deserve to feel. All the emotions that he brought in his brother, and thinking about all that he said to him still clenched his heart with remorse, made bile rise up in his throat.

_He doesn't even wanna look at me_. Sam thought miserably. How could he have done it? How could he have shot his own dad? And now, Dean's suffering for his mistake; _He has been_ paying for all his mistakes all his life, but this just crossed the line. Dean's never gonna forgive him for this.

And once again, he found himself thinking what he could've done, if he could've done things differently, if there was a way that didn't involve shooting his dad or letting his brother die. Even if it involved giving himself away, he would've taken it.

Bobby put two plates of food in front of both of them. "Eat up, idjits."

He sighed softly as he tried to control his tears. He looked down at his food and started picking on it ininterestedly. Now, Dean doesn't even want him around anymore.

He pushed the plate away and stood up. "I'm...I'm not really hungry right now." He announced and walked out of the room, leaving the two other men exchanging looks of confusion.

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Dear God. I'm getting weak in writing since I haven't exactly been doing it much lately. But I hope it was good enough. :) Thank you so much guys! *Crosses fingers* Let's hope my next update is gonna be fast.


	15. Chapter 15

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: I wanna thank the people who gave me some constructive advice, truly helped me a lot to improve through the months. Thanks to everyone who supported me! And also to those who reviewed and faved/alerted. :)

* * *

_**Chapter 15**_

Sam laid on the couch, letting his long legs dangle over the arm of the sofa with his hands resting on his chest. He stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts. It was a dark night, but it seems that now even his days were dark. Dark with all of the self-loathing emotions consuming him, closing in on him. The guilt of shooting his dad eating away at him slowly. The bleeding bullethole (_the bullet _he_ shot_) on his heart, his face relaxing into peace as death took him away. The pain of Dean's hateful, angry words that cut through his heart like a knife everytime he replays them in his mind, which isn't rarely.

He wished he could go back to the old days, go back to being a kid, before he knew about the monsters that go bump in the night, before he lost all his innocence. He wishes he could go back to when Dean still loved him and cared about him, when all it took was for Dean to hold him and all his fears and worries were gone, when their dad was still alive, tucking him in his bed and then kissing his chocolate-brown mop with a whispered good night.

He felt tears well up in his eyes. No more of that. He lost everything and everyone. He lost his mom, his beautiful soon-to-be wife Jess, his dad.

_I miss you, dad. I miss you so damn much_.

And the most important person of all, Dean. The one who gave everything just to make him smile each day, keep him happy, who did his best to give him all that he wanted and needed, forgetting his own needs at the time. The one who gave him the love of a brother, best friend, a father, and the missing love of a mother. The one who cared about _him_ even more than himself, forgave all his mistakes, from small to huge, countless times.

But this time, there is no forgiveness for him. And there probably never will be. That same brother doesn't love him anymore, hates him so much it _hurt_ to even _think_ about it, and he admitted that so easily himself. That same brother doesn't give a jack about him, can't even stand to _look_ at him, or even be in the same room as him. That same brother doesn't even want him anymore. But who can blame him? He's like a walking and talking curse, killing and troubling everyone he's around, ever since the day he was born. He killed his own mom when he didn't even know how to freakin' talk. Now, all he has is Bobby, but someday he's gonna leave him too, one way or another, and it'll be all his fault, just like everything else.

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and released it out and bit his lower trembling lip. He wants his brother to love him again. He wants everything to be just like before, when they were just two brothers, bickering over nothing, making fun of each other for silly little things. He wants Dean to call him 'Sammy' again. He never thought he'd want to hear Dean call him that stupid nickname.

Now, it's like they were two strangers under the same roof, both avoiding each other. He had started avoiding him too now. Everytime Dean walked into the same room as him, he'd walk out of there because he knew Dean wouldn't want to be in the same room as him, which was the reason why he was taking this uneasy, too small for his size couch. He couldn't bring dad back, couldn't do anything to make it up to Dean, so maybe, the best he could do is make him comfortable by making him feel like he didn't have a murderer freak for a little brother tagging along with him, a burden, the evil curse that destroyed his whole family.

_"You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!"_

_"Sam, don't you do it...don't you do it!"_

_"Don't touch me!"_

_"You mean that night when you killed dad out of cold-blooded hate? You hated him so much for the way he raised us that you didn't even think about what it would do to me! You just took whatever chance you had just to kill him!"_

_"Then you should've let it kill me! At least then I wouldn't have had to watch my own brother kill my **dad**!"_

He felt his vision blur with the tears pooling in his eyes. He wanted to _stop thinking_, but the memories kept bouncing back at him, all the times Dean had looked at him with such intense anger and hatred that it physically hurt so much, all the times he had reached for Dean and he jerked away from his touch in disgust, all the angry words that he spat at him. They whirled around in his mind like a tornado, echoing inside his head continuously and taunting him viciously, and he was sure that no one could punish him as much as Dean did by throwing these words at him. And no one can punish him as much as he's punishing himself by replaying these words again and again. He's disgusted with himself just as much as Dean was, maybe even more.

_"Oh yeah. You're the great Sam Winchester, who had a mind of his own, right? Who doesn't follow orders, except that one time when dad told you to kill him!"_

_"It should've been you possessed, not him!"_

_"I SAID GO!"_

_"Love? You? - I don't think I could love someone who destroyed my whole family."_

He felt a sob build up in his chest, tear tracks made their way down his cheek. He didn't even know he was crying until he felt a wet, sticky path on his cheeks. He tried to swallow his sobs down, to keep them at bay. But the more he kept repeating them in his head, the more sobs built up in his chest and eventually, he gave in to them, releasing them as quiet as possible. He turned over, curling fetally on his side and hugging himself as he buried his face into the sofa to try and muffle them.

_"Stop dumping the burden on me, okay!"_

_"It's his fault, okay! Everything is his fault! It's his fault dad died! His fault mom died!"_

_"He never should've been born then!"_

How could he have shot his own dad? How could he stole his brother's hero away from him? How can he make it up to him? How does he fix this?

**XxX**

Dean stood at the doorway silently, helplessly listening to his brother's cries and sobs and watching his shoulders shake with the force of holding them back. There was a time when he knew exactly what to do, but now he had absolutely no idea. He wanted to comfort his brother, he wanted to help him, but he didn't know how to. Is that how screwed up their relationship is?

He slowky turned away with reluctance. He didn't wanna turn away, especially when he should be comforting his brother, but he doesn't know what to do anymore. All he can do is stand and watch.

Suddenly he was reminded of his brother sitting on the dusty ground of Bobby's salvage yard, staring at him through tear-filled eyes and the hurt and shock evidently shown on his tear-streaked face.

_"Is that how you deal? By lashing out at the things you love?"_

_"Love? You? - I don't think I could love someone who destroyed my whole family."_

_"Y-you don't mean that."_

_"I don't?"_

_"I'm sorry I couldn't make the deal."_

_"I didn't want to take them away from you. I didn't wanna shoot dad...but I didn't wanna let you die either."_

_"But I guess...if I would've known it all...I would've put a bullet in my own chest a long time ago, before I took anyone else away from you."_

He needed a drink, and he needed one fast.

**XxX**

Bobby walked downstairs, feeling his thirst urging water strongly. He walked past the library, risking a glance at the youngest Winchester's back, who looked to be asleep. He sighed quietly. He had told him to share a room with Dean and take the bed, but the damn idjit was just as stubborn as his daddy. He understood though.

He walked inside the kitchen and froze in his steps when he saw Dean sitting on one of the chairs, with empty beer bottles littering the table.

"Boy?" He asked.

Dean turned his face to Bobby slowly. "Heeeey Bobbbby." He slurred and smiled drunkenly, then turned away and raised his bottle to his mouth to take another swig of his beer.

Bobby rushed over and snatched the bottle away before he could. "The hell ya doin' drinkin' at one in the morning?" He asked as he took all the empty beer bottles and walked towards the trash can to throw them away. He turned to face Dean to start scolding him for drinking at such a time, but stopped himself when he saw Dean staring down at the floor sadly.

"Dean?"

"Was supposed t'protect 'im...n't-_n't_ hur' im'."

Bobby sighed softly. "Dean, listen - "

"Made im' cry, Bobby. _I_ made im' cry." His voice cracked with emotion as he repeated, and kept repeating as Bobby took hold of his arm and led him up the stairs, into the guest room and his bed.

"_I made im' cry_." He whispered once more, before falling into an alcohol-induced sleep.

* * *

Aww. Poor boys.

Thank you guys so much for the great support! OMG! over 200 reviews? and over 100 alerts and 50 favorites? You guys rock! And I'm sooooo sorry for the late updates. I suck, I know. :(

So, July 17...my birthday. Anyone else has their birthdays in July 17? :)


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**: OMG! 27 reviews last chapter? :O :O Thank you all freakin' so much!This story was great! The amount of reviews and tags it got. Seriously, you guys have no idea how grateful I am for the support. :) But sadly, this story is now ending, but don't be upset, becaaause! I have a new story coming right up! I'll leave the plot as a preview and see if you guys would like it. Thank you all so much for everything. **YOU ROCK**! :D

It's an AU story in which Sam and Dean are unrelated. Dean lives with his dad, John, and he used to have a younger brother Adam, who died at a young age. Sam is an orphan, and lives with his abusive older brother (OC). So when their paths cross, that empty hole in Dean's heart fills, and Sam finds that he has been more of a big brother than his own ever was.

One more thing guys. If you _might_ be looking for some of my old stories like 'Trust In Me' [Bwaaaah, no doubt sucks butt so I'm sure no one's looking for it] I've deleted most of them. I wasn't happy with them and I'm pretty sure none of them were your favorites either. :)

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**Final Chapter [16]**

Sam has been nothing but an empty walking shell these days. It never went unnoticed by Dean and Bobby. He barely slept, only about two or three hours at the most, which anyone could tell at the black, darkening shadows under his eyes, the rest of the night and days, he just laid down on the couch staring sightless at the ceiling with eyes so vacant and hollow, it sent a sharp sting through their hearts when they saw him that way, and it was a little unnerving too. He never ate anything. He refused anything Bobby offered for him to eat or drink, not even after a string of threats and forcing and deals, he was becoming more and more abstemious each day, resulting in his emaciation. He never answered him anything. Moreover, he barely talked at all. He was falling into this - deep dark hole of depression, and Bobby wasn't sure he could ever pull him out.

Dean hasn't been doing really well either, in fact. He has been drinking a lot these days, into oblivion every night. He has been avoiding his brother out of shame and guilt too. Bobby had tried mentioning hunting again, but he had uncharacteristically turned it down. It wasn't like him to do that, considering throwing himself into killing monsters were one of his ways of dealing with grief.

A whole agonizing week and a half of all that, when Bobby finally had enough of it all. He trudged upstairs and into Dean's room, where he saw him sitting on his bed with his head against the board and drinking, stubble clearly noticed on his weary face.

Bobby closed his eyes and tried to ignore the dull ache in his heart at seeing _his_ boys this way, and snapped his eyes open, puffing out a breath before walking inside.

"Alright, that's it!" Bobby yelled in frustration, snatching the bottle away from Dean's mouth before he could take another swig and ignoring the glare thrown his way. "Ya only killin' yaself by doin' this! This ain't helping you or ya brother!"

He watched as Dean turned away, his face softening from the glare into something akin to sadness at the mention of his brother as he swallowed, before turning such sad child-like eyes to him, if only it wasn't filled with so much pain and guilt and despair and stress.

"What am I suppose' t'do, Bobby?" He whispered softly. "I - I told him that he should've been in dad's place instead of him. I told him that he destroyed my whole family. I told him that - that I h-hated him. I said that everything was his fault dammit! Mom's death, dad's and hell, he probably interpreted it into me blaming him for his girlfriend's death too! I said that he should've never been born! I - I hit him, once with my fist and then with my freakin' car! Tell me what the hell am I supposed to do after all this!" He yelled.

"What am I supposed to do, Bobby? I - I want to help my brother." He whispered.

Bobby stared at him quietly, listening to all his rants patiently. When he was done, he sighed, settling down in front of him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Ya don' have ta' do anythin'. Just talk to him, tell him how ya _really_ feel. And jus' - " He sighed softly and gave him a small encouraging smile. "Jus' be there for him...that's all ya haf' t'do." He said lightly. Looking at the young man's face, he knew the kid was thinking this through, so he decided to leave and give him some alone time to think on how he's gonna do that. He stood up and with one last look at him, he walked out of the door.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in deep thinking. It could've been hours, but he lost track of time in his thoughts. It wasn't supposed to be hard, of course. But he really had to mentally prepare himself, because he knew he couldn't trust himself after all the pain that he has caused with his venemous words and blows, he needed to make sure that he won't say the wrong things somehow, so he thought things through very, _very_ carefully.

**XxX**

_Sam was only ten years old while Dean had been fourteen. Their dad had decided to leave them in a motel while he went to hunt down a poltergeist a few towns away. Sam watched his brother and dad quietly from his place on the bed._

_"Check the salt-lines, keep a gun or a knife under your pillow or on your bedside table in case you get in trouble, alright?" Waitng for a nod before he continued. "And most importantly, I want you to watch out for Sammy, 'kay Dean?" John said._

_Dean nodded obediently and smiled when his dad ruffled his head affectionately. "Bye dad."_

_"Bye kiddo." He said smiling, and looked at Sam. "Bye squirt." He waved at him, turning away after he got a wave back in response from his youngest, and walked out of the door with a 'take care of yourself, both of you.'_

_Dean smiled, turning away to walk over to his bed and sat down with his back leaning against the headboard, flipping through channels._

_Sam stared at him, slowly scooting over and jumping out of his bed. He walked over to his brother's bed and stopped in mid-way, sighing. "Dean?"_

_Dean looked away from the TV and looked at his little brother. "Yeah Sammy?"_

_The youngest continued his walking and sat beside Dean. "Don't you - like - " He trailed off, before sighing and continuing what he was going to say. "Don't you ever get tired - of taking care of me? I mean, do you ever - like - feel like hating me for all this?"_

_Dean raised an eyebrow. "Well, you _are_ a pain-in-the-ass, ya know that."_

_Sam punched his arm lightly. "Dean! I'm being serious."_

_Dean sighed. "Fine. No, I don't."_

_"Why?" Sam asked, looking slightly hopeful though._

_"Because - Sam, you're not some kind of obligation to me. I won't ever get tired of taking care of you, you know why?"_

_Sam stared at him quietly._

_"Because you're my brother. And I don't take care of you because dad tells me to. I do it because I love to." __Even though 'because I love you' was unsaid, Sam still heard it clearly._

_"You mean it?" Sam asked._

_"No, I'm being sarcastic." Dean rolled his eyes._

_Sam smiled._

_"Now this - chick-flick moment is kinda making me feel awkward. Get off my bed!" Dean playfully pushed him off._

_Sam laughed._

Sam smiled lightly at the memory, before letting it fade slowly as a dull ache shot through his heart.

Dean never liked taking care of him. He was just a burden that he carried, just because dad drilled it into his head to take care of him when he was only four.

It was just a lie.

**XxX**

Dean still found it hard to talk to his brother, because he was still guilty and ashamed, and because he wasn't really good at having these heart-to-heart moments. In the end, he realized he didn't really know what to say, so he listened to Bobby's advice and decided that he'll just say whatever he feels, and it was far from all those angry and hate-filled words he said to his brother. He also decided to start off by being his big brother again, show him that he does love his little brother despite what he said before, and that he does care about him - Bobby's advice, again.

So when he saw Sam lying once again on that uncomfortable couch, curled on his side and staring sightless at the headrest of the sofa, probably trapped in some trip down memory lane. Dean sighed softly and walked inside, letting himself known as his boots thudded quietly on the carpet. And if Sam did hear that, he never reacted to it and just ignored it.

Dean put down the tray of food he was carrying in his hands on the table and crouched beside his back, and put a warm, comforting hand on his baby brother's thinning shoulder.

It seemed that Sam could recognize that touch anywhere when he finally turned towards him after a few seconds, with eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion, and when he saw Dean, his eyes widened in bewilderment as he lifted himself off the couch quickly and sat upright "De..." He swallowed at his dry mouth and whispered softly. "Dean?"

"Hey." Dean said softly and smiled lightly.

"Dean?" He repeated again, his eyes moving hesitantly towards the hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and stared at the expression on the older brother's face.

Dean cleared his throat. "Isn't this couch a little too small for your gigantic Sasquatch size?" He asked lightly and smirked.

Sam stared at him in awe, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. Bewilderment, adoration, _hope_.

Dean gave him a warm, comforting smile as he grabbed the tray from the table and held it out to him. "I know you haven't been eating properly, Sammy."

Sam stilled completely at the nickname, his breath stuck in his throat as tears formed in his eyes. Dean called him Sammy. He hadn't been called that by him for - _so goddamn long,_ ever since he had pulled that trigger on his dad and killed him.

He quickly snapped out of it, and was about to roll away and tell him he wasn't hungry.

But before he could, Dean took hold of his shoulder again and gently turned him towards himself. "And don't tell me you're not hungry."

Sam stared at the hand on his shoulder, and swallowed, looking up at him with wide, dewy eyes that silently asked him that '_how can you even stand to be near me after everything I've done_?'

Dean smiled softly._ Because you're my brother you moron_.

His smile faded slowly as he noticed for the first time just how skinny and emaciated his brother had become, almost like he could be knocked over with just a blow of a wind, his t-shirt once fitting hung loosely on him, he seemed to need a belt to fit his jeans around his hips unlike before, his cheeks had sunken in, he was pretty sure his shoulder blades, ribs and spine were poking out inside his shirt, dark shadows encircled his eyes. He bit his lip and stared at him pleadingly. "Sammy, please eat something."

Sam swallowed down the lump thickly at the concern he saw in his brother's eyes, something he hadn't seen for so long. He sighed in defeat and struggled to sit up on his elbows.

Dean lifted himself up on his knees and caught his brother's back with his arm, and felt slightly shocked when he felt his spine dig into his forearm. He wasn't wrong at all.

And used his other hand to hold his elbow, and tugged him up so that he can sit with his back against the arm of the couch.

Dean cleared his throat and asked hesitantly, staring down at his cast-covered wrist. "You - need help?"

Sam quickly shook his head, not wanting to bother him anymore.

Dean nodded slightly, deciding to give him a bit of independence. He took the tray and put it on his younger brother's lap.

Sam only stared at the food quietly, already feeling nauseated. He looked at his older brother, who watched him patiently and expectantly. He slowly lifted his uninjured hand and took hold of the spoon, using his casted hand to balance the tray, and brought the spoonful of soup to his mouth.

It was after three slow, hesitant and sickening spoons that he decided to ask the question bugging him. He bit his lip and swallowed, looking up at his brother falteringly, who seemed to be lost in thoughts himself.

"De.." He tried, but the words got stuck in his throat, but it was still enough to bring Dean's attention to him.

"What's wrong?"

Sam stayed quiet for a minute, before clearing his throat, closing his eyes and opening them again, and started again. "Why are you doing this?" It came out as a weary whisper.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, playing dumb, because he's not sure what else to do or how to respond to his question.

Sam swallowed convulsively again. "This."

A long, awkward silence stretched, before Dean finally gave in.

He parted his lips, wondering how to explain. "I _—_I just.." He stammered.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, before blowing it out, and swallowed. He stood up slowly on stiff legs, walking over to the foot of the couch and nudging his little brother's freakishly long legs lightly. He waited until Sam brought them loosely to his chest to give him some space, and sat on the foot of the couch. He sighed, moving his hands over to grab his brother's, ignoring the astonished look.

"Look. I'm _—_ I'm not really good at all this _—_ this girly sharing-and-caring thing, 'cause it's mostly your thing _—_ you big girl." He chuckled softly.

"But I'm _— _I'msorry_._" He whispered, swallowing. "I am so _— so _sorry, for everything I've said _— _and done, for the way I've been acting. I shouldn't _— _"_  
_

"You don't have to feel guilty _— _You had a right to say all of that." He said quietly, staring in fascination at his fingers. He shrugged one shoulder lightly. "Besides _— _I'd _— _I'd rather know the truth." He whispered wearily.

"The truth?" Dean shook his head. "Sammy, that was _far_ from the truth. I was just pissed. I mean, watching your brother shoot your dad, that _— _that kinda does screw with your emotions, you know."

Sam swallowed and ducked his head down in shame, hiding the unshed tears behind his bangs.

Dean sighed softly, mentally hitting himself upside the head for saying that. He let go of one of his brother's hands, and reached out to grab his chin, forcing him to look into his own eyes while he stared back at his watery hazel ones.

"But that doesn't mean that it's your fault." The older brother whispered softly.

"It _— _It is. _I_ was the one who had the gun. _I_ was the one who pulled that trigger."He whispered shakily, and then quietly added. "Not you."

And Dean realized, _really_ realized, how tough it must've been to choose between his dad and his brother, knowing that no matter who you choose, you'll lose the other anyway, or even both. He took a minute to put himself in that position, and knew that there was no way he would've had it in him to pull that trigger and live with the guilt for the rest of his life. It had probably took everything in his brother to do that.

"So what if you did pull that trigger?" Dean asked firmly.

That took Sam by surprise.

"Did you _want_ to kill him? _— _No. Sam, dad had spent twenty-two years looking for that thing so he can kill it, and avenge mom.

He's in peace now _— _probably in heaven, with mom. and besides _— _what are the odds, huh? Maybe if you didn't kill it when you did, it would've killed us all anyway."

"What about mom? She died because of me, because the demon was after me, and that's why she got killed when it should've been me." He pushed, biting his lower lip.

"She died protecting you _— _because she loved you. What could you have possibly done to prevent that, huh? You were six months old, for god's sake! If dad couldn't have done anything to save her, what could you have?"

Sam opened his mouth, but closed it and looked down again.

"That's right. You couldn't have done anything. Nobody could've."

The youngest Winchester looked on the verge of breaking down, his bottom lip trembling, his nose twitching as he tried to stop his face from crumpling.

"Look at me, Sammy." Dean urged softly.

But he only turned his head away, not wanting to let his brother see all the emotions in his eyes.

The older brother cradled his cheek with one hand. "I was wrong to say that, even when I was angry. I never meant any of it. You have to believe me _— please. _I know it's gonna take some time for our relationship to fully heal, and — and I'm willing to try. But we can't do that one-sided."

Sam stayed silent. And Dean knew he was still unconvinced.

Dean took a deep breath, knowing he's gonna have to play his cards right. If this doesn't convince him the truth, then he's not sure what he's gonna do next.

"You know, when _— _When you were hungry, I _— I _was the one who starved myself, so you wouldn't have to go to bed with an empty stomach. When you wanted to go somewhere, like to some party or on a date with some chick, or do something that dad didn't approve of, I was the one who covered up for you, so dad wouldn't be mad at you. When you made a mistake, did something wrong that would've made dad angry, I was the one who took all the blame on my own shoulders, so that you wouldn't have to hear dad's yells. And when you were in Stanford, I would come by at least once a week to check on you, see if you're okay." He sighed softly, and looked up at his brother, who stared down at his hands, but he knew he was listening. "You remember that time, I think you probably had some sorta fight with Jessica or something, and you were alone in a bar, drunk off your ass, and you passed out in some alley — I was the one who carried you to your apartment."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at that. He had always wondered who carried him to the apartment, and moreover, how did the man even know he lived there.

"And when you were in the hospital..." He swallowed back the lump in his throat as he remembered that he was the one who put him there. "I was the one who sat beside you _—_ _all_ day _— _and _all_ night, _each_ and _every_ day."

Sam's head snapped up at that, staring at him through wide, shocked eyes. "You _— _You _did_?"

Dean nodded slowly, eyes soft but weary.

"But when _—_ when I woke up _— _you — you weren't there — how?"

"Because I went to see mom, needed to get some things off my chest, ya know."

Sam stared at him with huge, doey eyes, filling with tears. Dean was there all along, right beside him?

"I — I thought you left me alone." He swallowed, and looked down, adding quietly. "I thought you didn't care."

"You were wrong." Dean answered calmly, and it was shocking when on the inside, the guilt and sorrow was drowning him. "I could never hate you — even if I wanted to, I never could. You're my little brother, the same little brother I've taken care of my whole life. And I didn't do that because dad told me to, but because.." He trailed off. They never said these things to each other, because they were Winchesters, but moreover, they didn't have to, because they knew that without needing to be told. But this time, he needed to say it. Hell, his brother needed the reassurance, and for him, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do.

Because, if he wasn't scared to give up his life for the kid, he was totally not scared to do this.

"Because I love you. And no matter _what_ you do, I won't stop."

Silence filled this whole room.

The youngest Winchester stared at him through teary eyes, and it was then he allowed them to escape. He can't believe it. It was just too good to be true."I _— _I don't _— _" He swallowed, staring at him with huge, teary eyes, just like when he was five, when he scraped his knees and wanted his big brother to make it better, or when he was nine and he had broken his arm on a hunt, when he was eleven and he had gotten the lead role in a play but their dad didn't let him, after Jessica's death. And the worst, after their dad's death, except then they were also pleading for forgiveness. He had that look every time he needed his big brother to make it better. "I don't know what to do anymore, De." He admitted shakily, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Just be my brother, and I'll be yours _— _that's all."

He watched as his younger brother's face crumpled, fully breaking down. He knew his brother wouldn't come on his own, so he raised his arms, inviting him in for the solace his baby brother had yearned for a month.

And in a heartbeat, he had his arms full of a crying little brother, face buried in his shoulder, and ignored his soaking jacket of his brother's tears, wordlessly holding him through his breath-hitching sobs and just letting him cry out all the pain he had endured in the past weeks, while he just buried his own face into his little brother's chocolate-brown mop.

They stayed like this, it could've been hours, but Dean didn't let go.

He found that he didn't really want to, and he knew his little brother felt the same.

And outside the library, Bobby watched with a smile decorating his face, showing the crowfeet beside his eyes.

"_Thank God_. You did it, Dean." He said softly to himself.

**XxX**

The golden sun was just rising up, a mixture of red and orange gradient coloring the sky, right above the trees, the warm breeze tickling his face. Dean watched, sitting on the hood of his car with a cool beer in his hand. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and chest, and it had. Their relationship is on the road to recovery. Sure, it was just a start and it gonna take some time, maybe a lot, but hey, at least they were there, right?

He heard hesitant footsteps, and he turned his head to his brother, who stilled and swallowed.

Dean smiled at him softly to reassure him that they were good. "Hey Sammy." He reached out an arm. "Come 'ere."

Sam smiled, dimples and all, and strode towards him, sitting beside him.

Dean wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and took a swig of his beer with his other hand, staring at the beautiful view ahead of him with his brother.

They were there alright.

And something tells him that they're not really that far.

"_We miss you dad_." Dean whispered, then turned his head to his baby brother, smiling hugely, who gave him a matching smile back.

**THE END**

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Aww! Now wasn't the ending just sweet? I hope the 'talk' you guys were waiting for was good too, and there was a hug. :D 4000 words? My new high score! :D

I loved writing this story, and I loved all the support that you guys gave me in this. I love you all so freakin' much! *Sniff*. I'm really upset, having to end this story. But hey, gotta move on sometime, right? Who knows, maybe you guys might see some much better stories from me. :)

Thanks to all of you.

*Sniffs*


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